Old and New teacups with a dash of Crossed Keys

The sun is still clinging to the hemline of the horizon and it stretches thinner as if to taunt me by saying: not yet. .  . The wind has died down from its furious pacing across the yard and if all holds the way it is now, I may be able to set up out doors in the back to be under the moon light for Her Sacred Fires Rite tonight.

I have been reading the Crossed Keys by Michael Cecchetelli. I find it interesting in  he manner that he shares some of his personal experiences with the Black Dragon Grimoire. As I was reading the evocations, I began to wonder several things about the original author of that grimoire including if the person was a priest to begin with and, if not, was this person disguising the dialogue within a Christian frame in hopes of not appearing to be a heretic. I also began to wonder about the origin of these 'demons'. As it turns out the 'demons' may not be what we think they are. Even in King Solomon's day that which we know as angels were called demons. I suspect some of them are probably divinities from cultures long passed and have been labeled as demons for the simple reason of not bowing to Christian-dom. The more I read and re read what was presented to me, the more I began to think upon my own native divinities within Feri and why would I want to add to a roster of beings (as though they were something to collect) when I have perfectly good connections of my own to call upon. I don't. As much as respect the work and praxis of the magicians presented here in this book, I don't think it's my cup of tea. . . (where's my old cup anyway?)

I have started to delve into parts of my tradition I have not thought to sink into before and I have The Crossed Keys to thank for that. I already have a connection to Gods and Goddesses and have only chanted their names with little thought of really connecting to them and creating a working relationship with them. I have always been the one to remember to say please and thank you and even yes sir/ ma'am, but these particular divinities always seemed distant to me upon evocation for ritual. While reading the Crossed Keys, I felt pulled, hard toward them even as I was fascinated with the praxis in hand. So with that in mind, for the next twelve weeks I will be working with each one in turn to begin individual introductions and personal dialogue. I have a wealth of connections and I should be cultivating and nurturing those instead of creating new ones as working with the Black Dragon Grimoire would demand I do.

I begin with Ashtaroth. She is a Phoenician Goddess also associated with Inanna and Ishtar as being one and the same on just about every different site I visit. I also see many Christian sites who call her  a demon, but that wouldn't be any new thing from them. She is a love and war goddess. However, there is more to her than love and war. She is a teacher of the liberal sciences, she also seems to have an affinity for groves, trees, the woods. She has been called a stellar Goddess and a bringer of visions and prophetic dreams. I come from a tradition that values personal experiences so reading was not enough for me. I went and built an altar for her in the West, put out my gazing mirror and made offerings of perfumed oil, sourdough bread, and a liquor. I wrote her an evocation and called upon her in the afternoon after meditating upon her in the morning. I shouldn't have been shocked by actually making contact with her, but there was something in me that was. Maybe it's just the recent stresses of my mundane life speaking. My PTSD makes me believe all sorts of crazy things like: maybe I have been abandoned by my gods. It was a good beginning this rite. Is she Inanna and Astarte and Ishtar??? I don't know, maybe. What I do know, is that I did dream something that was not the usual of late and it didn't make me afraid.    

While I am looking for employment, I keep my little etsy shop going and keep busy with other things on top of trying to decipher legal speak. . . the law really should be something that is readily accessible AND easily understood by lay people, but it's not. So needless to say, I am turned upside down and twisted into pretzel knots trying to read it while trying to keep the panic attacks to a minimum which means more breaks than I really want. Still I over do it and some times end up in full blown anxiety attack mode. It's getting better though. With the acupuncture treatments counseling and some of the coping skills I have been acquiring, I am really seeing improvement from a few months ago. I still need to be reminded to take my homeopathic remedies because there are times when I don't catch the precursors myself.

I will be okay, eventually.

Well the wind is up again. I can hear it whip by my window. . . so the rite is indoors tonight. 

Just got stranger. . . new cup!

Mabon came in with a bolt of lightening and turned things on their head. Including me. Everything is still facing North but it is all upside down, if that makes any sense at all. I must be feeling the season settle in or some strangeness indigenous to Odd, but I feel a calm even as I know there is a storm coming and it may not be pretty. That is the most Odd thing of all. I am usually spun up emotionally and tempest tossed by the current. Am I sitting on my surf board well finally? I don't know. I just know that now, more than ever I feel compelled to watch carefully everything. I can feel my inner self smell the shifting winds and even though there is a calm hand upon me, I feel a dreadful purpose and it draws closer to us all. I am not left with out hope. Quite the opposite, it feels like grim focus on what it is I need to do to make things right with me and mine.

Three words have been spinning around in my head:

Love
Honor
Order

It rolls through my head like my reiki mantra does while I am working. I feel like I have been struck by lightening as I am going through my daily rituals. Each one has had an added dimension to them with subtle shifts that have shifted some of the meanings of things I grew up with in my pagan witchy career. I still trying to absorb everything in an organic gentle way. I know better to push something like this. Butterflies must open by themselves lest harm comes to them and prevents them from flying.

I have been quietly witnessing the shifts I have seen happen in the online pagan community. Once respected voices have fallen away in either frustration or disgust. There is behind the scenes gossip girl  behavior that makes my bottle of gossip girl gag want to find bottom. Name calling, finger pointing, personal attacks. . . blah blah galah. AAAAAAHHHKK!


NEW EFFING CUP!

I am sorry those voices have felt compelled to leave the general online pagan community. Those voices will be missed, but I understand the need to step back and gather oneself. I wish them fair travel winds and sweet water enjoy your journey and come home when you are ready. I will be waiting patiently for you at any rate.


I don't know how close to the surface I am going to be this year as the Samhain Gods come to call me to my work. I feel some thing very deep below calling my name and I am compelled to respond. I will try to be in touch with the world via twitter, but you all know how my blogging becomes at this time of year.

One more thing to remember:

She who stirs the cauldron is not the slave.

Names have been called. The Land of Odd just got stranger if that is at all possible.

Look ma! No kitty lips!

I think I am sailing out the other end of the storm. I am tired. You know the kind that goes clear, deep into you. The stress has notably done unkind things with my fibro. If I have read the signs correctly, there is still a bit to go. I have sneaking hunches as to what it may be and I know that it will slam into the family like a wrecking ball. I have prepared myself for this by speaking with my own beloved dead about helping her to pass if that is what she chooses to do with the energy I am sending. You see I learned something while Cora was going through her death process. She had been in and out of the hospital and word spread that this trip was quite serious. The Feri community began to send healing energy in droves. She had helped so many others with her own brand of healing, how could I not participate in that? Then in the chaos of the moment there was Thorn who pointed out that maybe healing isn't what Cora really needed. She emphasized the idea that only Cora, at this point, knew what was best for her and that maybe instead of sending healing energy we should be sending her just energy for her to decide what to do with. That was the only thing that made sense to me and removed the dread of the inevitable news of Cora's passing. She passed May 1st 2008. I got the phone call while celebrating my youngest child's 1st birthday with ice cream shop ice cream. It was a bitter sweet moment, but I am taking my cue from the lesson I learned from Thorn and Cora and sending my husband's Grandmother tons of energy. I have no idea how his family would react to this type of action so I guess mum's the word, but how can I not? She has done me many kindnesses. I am preparing myself to help my husband mourn his grandmother's passing, so I guess the feathers and the order of their discovering really were the portends I thought they were when they started lining up on my altar after morning walks. I hope I still have a good hand left on the helm.

I know that things regardless of what actually happens, things will be okay. During the darkness of this storm I started to see light shine through; my oath mother had gifted me with some black heart beads she had specially commissioned. She wanted beads that threaded side to side and discovered that 99.99 percent of the black heart beads she was looking for strung from top to  bottom. Three of those little jewels are now in my most grubby, witchy hands and I'm 'a gonna hoarde those babies! I know it sounds weird to hear (read) someone say that the arrival of black hearts, or any other said sign, brings peace, but that's my truth. The white/ grey dove's feather I found this morning only confirms that light indeed is dawning on the horizon. I look forward to a smooth sea and a calm nights star gazing.

My cat must even recognize that her mama's a bit of a train wreck this morning. She didn't stick her lips under the door and yowl merceilessly until I got out of bed. Usually, I am greeted first thing in the morning ( before my coffee: most dangerous btw) with a pitiful yowling that seems to echo off of EVERYTHING! It's like she has figured out just the right tone, timber and location to stick her head under the door and start in with that horrible Halloween sound track. It's like she grew extendable kitty lips for just the right amount of annoyance. I actually got coffee this morning without the full frontal frenzy assault. It was nice to not try and think this morning with out miss kitty lips and her 2 cents. I'll let you know when the storm is gone. Thank you for your patience with me. I know I have been off and on MIA.

Notes from the land of Odd

I have had my week break and now it's time to get back on the surf board and ride the incoming wave. And speaking of water, I have transitioned from the elemental guardian of Fire into Water realms, and you know that point in time while cooking rice you add water to a hot pan??? Well yeah. . . the transition from fire to water is sort of ( okay just like) that! The quench releases so much energy that it stirs up all the stuff and it all boils to the surface for you to handle ( before it handles you.) I was assured by the Gods ( okay a specific one in my pantheon) that this is just business as usual; nothing personal unless you want to throw a hissy fit about it. At which point, I just tried my hardest to not roll my eyeballs.

Speaking of rolling eyeballs. . .

. . . this whole silly season propaganda on parade has got me all sorts of rolly eyed. I hate rolling my eyeballs. I mean really??? You want to start trolling candidates from prepubescence now???? Way to discourage good people from running for office and trying to do something about all the "broken toys in the house." I feel like I joined some perverted version of the Mad Hatter's tea party. Can I just go back to my regular happy version of enjoying my insanity please? ( new tea cup please!) Besides, if I don't stop this reflexive eye roll soon, my eyeballs just may fall out of my head. Where's that sand bar? I need to go bury my head!

In other News. . .

Mr. Patchouli has had a bit of a rough ride this winter. You know, it's too cold outside and inside it's too dry! What's a plant to do over here in this crazy desert it's been potted in???? However Mr. Patchouli is tough little dude who seems to be enjoying the odds being beaten! I keep hearing Hugo Weaving's voice from the Matrix when I think about Mr. Patchouli. Don't have a reason or clue why yet, but I thought it was rather funny. You know the line: " Mr. Anderson. . . that is your name?" I am hoping that in the next season he sets into his pot well and goes bazongas!

Crazy news. . .

So I have been having crazy dreams where the Gods and other Feri people sort of drop in for a visit while my Oath Mother's voice pipes in Obiwan- like about the situation and the Gods start having open dialogue about  my life in minutia. . . 0.o Most of the conversation is sane enough. . . okay about as sane as Feri gets. . . but some of the events/ conversations makes the Mad Hatter seem rather well adjusted. I guess that means I am officially Feri Mad.

So speaking of Madnesses. . .

Anyone with children make sure you tell your little ones that if someone shoots you, don't go back when they are called. Thank you Crazy woman in Florida for putting that on my docket of weird madnesses to remind my kids of: " now children, if I go off my rocker and shoot you, don't come back when I call you back home. I will kill you."  

????

Ok you know what? I think I'll just stick to my Mad Hatter Tea Party. At least there, the only thing in danger is the tea cup.

New cup!